Pictures From Beyond The Grave
by RumRunnersIsle
Summary: Sam and Dean Have lost everyone they've ever cared about. They get a sweet surprise from everyone on the other side.


The small, worn motel room lay in a shocking state of disrepair. Beer cans, and bottles were strewn all over the matted carpeting. The sheets on both beds lie halfway on. There were notebooks, and papers on the kitchenette's table, evidence of someone trying to muddle through them was obvious from grease-stained finger prints on the pages. Castiel pursed his lips and sighed. They really weren't alright. "_Hopefully these will cheer them up". _He thought sliding an envelope onto the notebook before he shimmered out of this world's dimension again. Then, the room lay vacant.

The wind whipped violently at the brothers as they slammed the doors shut on Bobby's Mustang. Dean, fingers numbly fumbled with the key before it slid into it's rightful place in the lock. "_If only things fell together that easily"._ He thought absently, trying to avoid all the pain and memories such a statement would warrant. The motel door creaked open and the familiar scent of the Winchester's own wafted out. Sam tromped in behind Dean, sagging under the emotions he was forced to carry alone. Neither of them spoke. They had barely said two words since they burned Bobby and sent him off to the other side.

Dean went over to the counter and set down the six pack of Bud he bought and instantly reached for one. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the counter. "Sammy, ya want one or not?" Sam walked out of the bathroom, face wet and nodded. Dean tossed him one carelessly. His brother walked over and all but dropped into the cheap plastic chair across from him. Dean, too worn out to stand decided to take Sam's silent invitation and sit across from him. Weary however, because he knew an 'Oprah moment' was coming. But to tell the truth, Dean couldn't even bring himself to stop Sam when he looked at him with the 'We Gotta Talk' face.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Eyes glued to Dean's face. Not knowing how to drag the words out, he cleared his throat. The elder hunter flinched a little, surprised by the sudden noise. "Dean" Sam said. Eyes beginning to water. He tried to fight back the tears with whatever strength hadn't been beaten out of him. He looked at his brother with wide helpless eyes. "They're all gone." He whispered blinking away the pooling water. But, to no avail. The tears began to fall.

Dean snapped his head up and shrugged taking a long sip. "Don't do that Dean. Not now. Not to me." Dean cleared his throat "Sammy, what do you want me to say? That it's nobody's fault?" Sam looked away and shook his head. "Just say something Dean, anything."

"Anybody who has ever been there for us is dead. Our whole family is dead." Dean croaked. "And you want me to talk about it? Sam, we've felt like this for _years_ why start now?" He choked back tears of his own now. Wrestling to be the soldier he was taught to be. But he could feel his resolve crumbling as his brother's large face was covered in tears.

"They wouldn't want this for us, you know, not Ellen, or Dad, Cas, or B-"he swallowed, "Bobby". Sam said trying to overcome the shaking in his voice. Dean just sagged more. The brothers stayed silent, looking everywhere but at eachother.

That's when Dean saw it. A small white envelope lay between them. _To Our Boys. _ Was written in a formal script across the front. He picked it up and felt the weight of something inside. "Sam. Look." Dean said grabbing his brother's forearm.

"To Our Boys?" Sam asked wiping away the tears.

Dean grabbed his chair and slid it next to Sam. Then, he carefully peeled open the flap. What they saw next they never thought possible. The boys turned and looked at eachother in disbelief. Dean ripped open the rest of the envelope and held its contents in his large hands. Pictures. Family portraits.

"Sammy, tell me you're seeing what I'm seeing." Dean said studying them. All Sam did was nod. Everyone that had died, anyone that loved them was smiling up from the kodak paper. Dean began to cautiously go through them. The first picture was a large group of people. Their parents, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, Ash, Gabriel, Pamela and Castiel, yes even Cas all stood in a crowd smiling at the phantom camera.

The second picture was of John and Mary with slight smiles on their faces. They both looked like they were in their twenties again. Dean smiled lightly and Sam looked on in wonder.

The next picture was of Ash, Ellen, Jo ,and Cas sitting on barstools in Heaven's very own Roadhouse. They all looked the way they had before their deaths. Every detail on them was perfect. From Ellen's kind eyes, to the horrors left on Castiel's body erased. Ash had a beer can raised to his mouth, drinking from the side of the can like he always did. Ellen had a shot glass in one hand, and the other on Ash's shoulder. And jo had her arm thrown around Castiel's shoulders and a wide smile on her face. Cas, who usually looked a little lost looked perfectly in place there.

Sam began to freak out. "How...these are in Heaven aren't they?"

"I have no idea". Dean said turning to the next picture.

It was set up exactly like the last picture he took with Ellen and Jo. It was Bobby's house again. Only a few things had changed. Bobby was standing with his arms around Ellen and Jo, and Gabriel had magically appeared next to Sam. Dean and Cas were on either end of the group. Dean flipped it over, and on the back was scrawled _TEAM FREE WILL, 2009._That brought a smile to their faces.  
>"Hell yeah." Dean said lightly fist bumping Sam. They couldn't help but feel a little happier. That was the last picture. The last item in Dean's hand was a piece of paper unevenly folded and a little crumpled at the edges. It read:<p>

To Our boys, we'll always be here. Behave (Idjits,) Stay Strong, and remember that we made the decisions that we did, and that we dont regret them for a minute.

See You Soon,

~Your Family

Ps. Dean, take care of my trenchcoat it is very important.~ Castiel.

Pss. I saw you try to throw away MY Casa Erotica. I'm going to want that back. ~ Big Daddy G.


End file.
